


Collide

by IttyBittyTeapot (LittleSeedofDarkness), TheSoulReader



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aerial Acrobat!Eren, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And a lot of emotions, And three Levis, Canon!Eren, Canon!Levi, Character growth is a thing, Comedy, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, Multiverse, Physics, Shameless Smut, Smut, Snarky!Eren, Snarky!Levi, Sorcerer!Levi, There are three Erens, Wood Elf!Eren, good luck, lots of comedy, model!levi, sass queens, there IS a plot, things are gonna get weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSeedofDarkness/pseuds/IttyBittyTeapot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoulReader/pseuds/TheSoulReader
Summary: What happens when a sorcerer fucks up a transportation spell?Worlds collide.





	1. Sticky Fingers Are Problematic

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled onto IBTs writings a few months ago. I got hooked after reading Levi's Mailbox. After they started reading my stuff, leaving reviews, etc, we struck up a friendship. The result of this newfound friendship is a fic that nobody asked for. It will be almost entirely ridiculous, and will have massive amounts of banter. And smut.
> 
> Oh, and character growth with angst, because that's how we roll.
> 
> This story involves Erens and Levis from three universes I created for Kinktober (Think Kink), so if you want to get to know these particular iterations a bit beforehand, go read the Sleepy Sex, Body Worship, Body Swap, Biting, and Fucking Machine kink chapters there. 
> 
> Enjoy and please leave comments! We love them!

Life had been fairly peaceful for Levi in his early years.  The young sorcerer lived as a nomad, which was difficult, but not unpleasant.  He took on quests that were simple enough for a man of his talents to complete, the rewards well worth his efforts, and he was unbothered by the solitude.  It was self-imposed, after all.

And then…Eren happened.

The raven had never expected a wood elf to stumble upon his camp, begging for sanctuary and protection from a horde of goblins.  Mostly because wood elves never asked for help from anybody.  They were haughty and arrogant, and even when they attempted to be polite they were relatively insulting.  The offer of ten gold coins was more than enough to persuade then seventeen-year-old Levi to offer his aid.  The elf had, of course, complained quite loudly about being shoved up into the boughs of a large oak tree, but when he was confronted with the potential of evisceration he became far more accepting of the idea.

Goblins were not known for their intelligence, and when they came stampeding through the sorcerer’s camp and asked him in broken English if they’d seen a “woodsy fairy sprite,” Levi had done little more than point them in the direction of a nearby lake.  They had been moderately suspicious, scenting the air for signs of their quarry, but Levi only told them the scent they detected was that of the whore he’d slept with a few hours prior.

He covered up the indignant squalling in the treetops with raucous coughing.

When the goblins had departed and the elf had descended from the tree, a broad smile on his face, Levi had known he was in trouble.  He wasn’t sure _how_ exactly, only that he was.  Eren, as he had learned the elf’s name to be, was newly separated from his clan and was just learning the ways of the world.  At eighty years of age, he was only an adolescent in Elven terms, and Levi felt compelled to strike up a partnership with him.

Mistakes were made.

That’s what Levi told himself anyway.

Though he was surprisingly cordial and jovial for a wood elf, Eren’s mouth frequently got him, and thus, Levi, into trouble.  Almost everywhere they went the raven would someway, somehow, have to save Eren’s ass.  In the seven years they’d been traveling together Levi had lost his eyebrows (more than once), come far too close to having limbs severed, had been thrown into a lake, and, most recently, been forced to swap bodies with the prick eared troublemaker.

There had been some revelations during the body swap.  Revelations of a romantic nature that had led the pair from being antagonistic companions to lovers.  The swap also had, apparently, left a lasting effect on both of their personalities, rendering Eren more serious than he had previously been while Levi had become more mischievous and devious.

That led them to their current predicament.

* * *

“Why can’t you keep your sticky fingers to yourself!?” Eren screams as he blocks an orc’s battle axe with his broadsword. 

“We needed the coin!  We haven’t had a good quest in weeks!” the raven shouts back, narrowly dodging a spear.

“Then pickpocket a fucking gnome, you dwarf!”

The orc actually stops attacking just long enough to laugh and call Levi “puny.”

“It was an easy score!” the sorcerer growls, raising his shield to block a mace blow from yet another orc.

“WHAT IS EASY ABOUT THIS!?”

The orc attacking Eren roars in his face, spittle landing on tan skin.  The elf is visibly disgusted, ears pinned back and lip raised in a snarl. He already knows he can’t beat the orc.  His only option is to escape.  He ducks when a meaty fist careens towards his head, launching his body between the orc’s spread legs.

He runs into another orc, then stumbles past a second and kicks out a thick leg from under him only to look up and see five more fast approaching.

“Uh, Levi…” Eren murmurs, though it’s loud enough for Levi to catch.

“BUSY!” the raven calls out, leaping over the sword of an assailant only to be punched in the gut during his ascent.  “Motherfucker!  A little help, please!?”

“Levi!” the elf’s voice raises to a semi-panicked shriek. The two have battled numerous creatures together during their adventures, and years of experience are enough to tell Eren that they’re outmatched.

“Fucking what!?” Levi snarls in response, grabbing a handful of dirt to throw in the eyes of the Dragonborn that has him pinned.  He scrambles away when it reaches up to scratch at its eyes.

“We have company!”

“Aiya!”

“What do we do now?!”

“Run, you fuckstick!”

It’s far too late to run.  The pair is surrounded.

They stand back to back, swords drawn, brows dripping with sweat.

“It would appear that running is no longer an option,” Eren mutters.

“What are you griping about?  You love fighting!”

“While that is true, orcs are not my favorite adversaries.”

“They are kinda rapey.”

“HEY!” an offended voice shouts.  One of the orcs.

“Do you really need to make things worse?! We’ve talked about this!” Eren reprimands Levi and scans the gaggle of orcs. “I’m so sorry!  I apologize for his…”

Levi stares at Eren, indignant and incredulous as he bellows, “Are you fucking serious right now!?  They’re trying to _kill us_!”

They’re running out of time, their enemies are advancing on them, tusks gleaming in the midday sun, wet with drool.  Axes and maces are raised, thunderous growls resonating in their throats.  Eren is praying to the gods while Levi drops his sword to pat down his pockets.

“What are you doing?  I think it’s a bit late to try and give the money back!”

“Shut up!  That’s not what I’m—HA!  HA HA!” the raven crows, triumphant.  In his hand is a crumpled piece of parchment, Elvish messily scrawled across it.  He reads over it as quickly as he can, his compatriot babbling for him to “Hurry the fuck up!” with whatever he’s doing.

“What is that!?”

“Transportation spell!”

“And you’re just now remembering that you have it!?”

“Things have been a little bit stressful, Eren!  Fucking shit would you calm…”

Eren seizes him by his vest collar, hollering, “RECITE THE DAMN INCANTATION!”

The sorcerer tries to protest being manhandled, but the quake of approaching footsteps changes his mind about being ornery.

“Remove ammen o tuin who would ceri- ammen harm, im invoke thui sacred lúth. Cast thar dór ben gaer, tegi- ammen gentlui na safetui!”

“Wait, wha—!” is all Eren manages to say before they’re enveloped in blinding bright light.

* * *

They’re falling.  They’re falling and they’re screaming, and neither one has any time to even attempt a cushioning spell before they hit the ground.  Eren lands in a bush.  Levi is nowhere to be found.

“Levi?  Levi, where are you?” the brunette calls into the dark, picking twigs from his clothing.

“Up here, you shit!”

Eren looks up to find Levi dangling from a tree.  He’s upside down, foot caught in a forked branch.  He looks positively murderous.  The elf doesn’t even make an attempt to hide his amusement, walking towards the sorcerer, slow and methodical.

“Get.  Me.  Down,” Levi demands.

“You sure you don’t want to hang around for a little while?” the elf snorts.

“I swear to fucking shit, if you don’t get me down from here I will soak your head in tar and set you on fire!”

Green eyes roll in annoyance, but Eren scales the small tree to free his companion.  Levi is offered no time to prepare himself for landing as his foot is unceremoniously shoved out of the fork, sending him plummeting to the ground.  He lands with a grunt, glaring at Eren when he sits up.  The elf is laughing at him.

“Are you alright?” he chuckles.

“Peachy.  Thanks,” the raven groans, rubbing his lower back.  “Where are we?”

“That’s a good question.  None of this looks familiar to me,” Eren says as he scratches at his braids, turning in a semi-circle.  “It’s not like any place I’ve ever seen before.”

The sorcerer finally stands, dusting himself off as he, too, takes in his surroundings.  Wherever they are, it’s not somewhere he’s ever been.

Eren’s ears flick suddenly and he raises his head, brows knitting together.

“What is it?” Levi whispers.

“Do you hear that?”

“No, I don’t hear it!  I don’t have your giant ass ears!”

“It sounds like…buzzing?  Or roaring?  I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Levi joins in with a frown of his own.  He’s concerned.

“It’s nothing like I’ve ever heard.  I don’t like it,” Eren admits. There aren’t only strange sounds, but it smells…off, dirty.  Different from any place they’ve found themselves before.

The smaller sighs and scrubs his hand through his hair before addressing Eren again.

“Wherever we are now, we can’t stay here.  We need to find lodging for the night.  And food.”

“Which way should we go?”

“Follow the noise.  Where there’s noise, there are people.  Certainly, somebody should be able to help us once we find civilization.”

Eren bites his cheek and huffs.  He’s not quite sure he agrees with their plan of action, but Levi is right about one thing, and that’s that they can’t stay where they are.

“Ah! Fuckbuckets!” the raven exclaims into the night.

“What!?”

“My sword!  I left my fucking sword with those orcs!” Levi fumes.

“No you didn’t,” comes a happy proclamation.  “Here, I grabbed it just before we transported.”

Levi almost squeaks with happiness.

“Ah, I could kiss you, you ridiculous sapling!”

Eren kisses him first, laughing at the raven’s startled expression.

“Come on, then.  The sooner we find people, the sooner we can find help.”

The young sorcerer sheathes his sword, setting off into the darkness in hopes of finding their way.

They’re too far away to hear the soft thuds of two more bodies landing where they had been.

 


	2. A Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been so excited to start writing this with my friend, TheSoulReader. We have been talking about it with each other for weeks, and I'm ecstatic that our banter has grown into a workable idea. I have been in love with her writing since we found each other on here and with our powers combined, and the awesome Levi and Eren's she created, I think we're going to end up with a lovely story full of ridiculous nonsense and tons of feels. 
> 
> Please enjoy chapter two, and let us know what you think. <3 - IBT

“Wait up,” Levi says, his hand reaching up to clasp Eren’s shoulder.

“Hmm?”  Green meets grey as Eren turns and looks down at Levi questioningly.  Their drills are over for the day, and Levi was grumbling that he was hungry just twenty minutes earlier.

“Maybe I fancy watching the sunset with my brat,” Levi whispers.

Eren understands.  Levi is in one of his quiet moods, like those times when Eren will catch him watching him fondly from his desk in between scribing sentences as he writes reports.  They have to take what they can get. Other than the time they have at night in their quarters, it’s not often Levi and Eren are afforded any time alone.  Between planning operations, gathering intelligence, and war, they’re usually exhausted come evening, and the opportunities to do something as simple as watching the sunset are rare.

After so many years together there are still times when words don’t come to Levi, but he doesn’t need to say anything, and Eren doesn’t push.  Instead, he presses his chest against Levi’s back, wraps his arms around him, and they look off at the horizon together from the top of Wall Maria.

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Levi teases.

“It’s beautiful.” 

Eren reluctantly pulls himself away from Levi and sits down on the edge of the wall, feet dangling over the side, patting the space next to him as he smiles back.  “We can scrape something up to eat later. Sit with me.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice.  Levi is by his side in a second, head leaning against his brat’s shoulder.  No one will see them up there, not that he would care anyway.  Everyone has known about them for a long time.  In a world as dark as theirs, it’s not easy to keep the one piece of happiness they possess a secret.

It wasn’t too many years ago when the chances of seeing Titans in the distance from atop their perch was high. When the wall was both their salvation and their prison. Now they know that instead, the entire world is a battlefield and they’re only a small piece set on a chess board.  It was easier when they believed they were stuck in a birdcage.

It’s during precious few moments like these they can both forget about their foredoomed existence. 

Eren presses little kisses to Levi’s temple while he entwines their fingers together.  He looks down at the smile on Levi’s face as he hums, his eyes closing in contentment, and reaches out his free hand to slide fingers through the silver streak which creeps towards Levi’s bangs. 

Neither of them wants to leave, but they don’t think about it.  Instead, they forget the torturous possibilities of their future for a short time, wrapped in each other’s presence enjoying the sunset. 

Levi contemplates taking Eren right there, but he dismisses the idea, sure that someone will eventually come looking for them.  The chances are good that person would arrive at the most inopportune moment possible. Probably when one of them is about to come. It seems to be the way things go for the two of them.

It’s only when the sun is about to dip below the horizon that Eren feels Levi tense in his arms.

“Do you feel that?” Eren quietly asks as he bites his lips and frowns. 

There’s an electricity in the air like static before a thunderstorm, and yet it feels different.

“Yeah.”

Levi rubs his upper arms and stands.  He narrows his eyes at something hovering over the trees.

“What is it?”

“Shh, I don’t know.”

Levi strains his ears.  There is a crackling sound, constant, growing louder, and something which looks like a streak of lightning hanging in the air.  Levi’s hands fly to his blades and Eren is immediately on his feet.

“Titans? Marley?” Eren asks, his heart rate rapidly increasing in panic.

They are alone on the wall, it’s nearing night, and the jagged crack of blinding light reminds Eren of the day Shiganshina fell.  The day he lost his mother.  The day his entire world was turned upside down.  He’s tempted to transform, but warm fingers wrapping around his wrist halt him.

“Wait,” Levi whispers.

Levi never tells Eren whether to transform or not, and the fact that he is doing so now gives Eren pause. 

He is slowly crouching down, his back stretching forward, muscles bunching up.  He’s like a small cat ready to pounce.  Silver eyes narrow, focus laser sharp as he watches the streak widen.  There’s a burst of fire and a crash which sounds as if the heavens themselves have been torn in half.

They’re blown almost over the opposite edge of the wall, still finding their bearings when they’re pulled back toward the rift.

“It’s going swallow us whole,” Eren bellows, the tips of his fingers catching uselessly as he tries to find some purchase.  He snaps his head forward.  Levi is in front of him, just barely, and Eren instinctively reaches out for Levi as they're swept over the edge and into the air.

“Eren!” Levi screams when Eren is torn from him.

“Levi!”

He looks back at Eren, sees him flying closer to the swirling vortex hell bent on devouring them.  He doesn’t know what it is, who sent it, or why it wants to eat them, but he’s not allowing it to steal Eren.  Reflexively, his hands go to his gear, hooks flying into the wall just in time to stop them from being swallowed up.

Levi feels Eren’s hand grasp his ankle and the relief is enough to make him let out the breath he'd been holding.

His eyes lock with Eren’s.  “Don’t. Let. Go!” Levi yells, straining to be heard over the thunderous whoosh of wind.

“I won’t!”

It isn’t long before Levi can hear his gear creaking, one of the wires coming loose where it’s buried in the wall. He looks back at Eren who is only looking at him, petrified, as his fingers begin to slip from the boot he is desperately clinging to.

They know they aren’t going to get away.  That they may not survive.  There’s no way Eren can get to his gear to secure two more wires.  Levi’s are failing, and Eren’s about to be swept away.  If that happens, Levi knows he’s going in after him, vowing not to leave Eren to his fate alone. 

Many years ago, duty would have stopped Levi from following, but things have changed.  In the past, his decision would have been to save himself then make plans and go after Eren later.  But this isn't the past.  At the moment his resolve becomes clear, Levi hears a snap.  He looks up to find the cause of the sound is his wire tearing from the wall.

“Watch the wire!” Levi warns.

Eren’s hand is sweaty, his grasp on Levi’s boot faltering.  He wants to let go, but Levi has told him not to and he won’t.  It’s an order he would never think of disobeying.  He fights to bring his hand to his mouth, ready to bite just before Levi’s other wire comes free and they’re pulled into the vortex.

“I swear to fuck, Eren, you better not let go,” Levi cries, his face set in a determined mask.

“I won’t! I won’t!”

Eren watches as their world moves farther and farther away, fading to a tiny pinpoint as they’re pulled backward, and he struggles to pull himself up Levi’s body.  His hands dig into the fabric of Levi’s jeans, fingers finding a pocket to grab onto.  A small hand wraps around Eren’s larger one, pulling him closer until they’re face to face, arms wrapped around each other, falling, falling, falling.

“If this is how we die,” Levi says, pressing a kiss to Eren’s mouth.

“Then we’ll die happy,” Eren finishes.

They don’t die. 

Instead, the two land in a bush.  Levi sprawled out on top of Eren, tangled in a heap.  Luckily the wires aren’t wrapped around them.  Even better, they didn’t cut them to shreds.

“Ugh,” Eren moans.

“You all right?” Levi asks.

“I think.”

“At least we aren’t dead.”

“I swear my gear is up my ass,” Eren complains and gently urges Levi to get off of him.

Levi smirks.

“It better not be, I still have a use for your ass.” 

Eren cheeks darken, and he pushes at Levi again.

Laying on Eren is always lovely, but Levi relents and carefully sits up, barely stopping himself from landing on his behind as he untangles himself.  He frowns as he stands and brushes himself off before moving forward to assist Eren.

Eren looks up, takes the offered hand, and pulls himself to standing.  Luckily his 3DMG hasn’t been stuffed where the sun doesn’t shine, but the left side is hanging at an odd angle and bumping awkwardly into his leg when he takes stock of it.

“I need tools,” Eren hisses, glaring at the broken connection.

“I’ll carry you back up,” Levi offers and runs a hand through his hair.  “It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

Eren is not the teenager he was when Levi used to have to rescue him.  Part of him dislikes the idea of Levi carrying him up the wall, and yet another part relishes the thought, so he doesn’t argue.  At this point, they’ve been jostled across the top of Wall Maria, sucked into a storm, and thrown out onto the forest floor. Eren is hungry and tired, and if riding on Levi gets them food, and into their warm bed together, he’s not going to complain.  Regardless of the scrapes and bruises, he wouldn’t mind fucking Levi’s sweet ass tonight either.  He looks up at the one thing standing in his way only to find it missing.

“Levi?” Eren breathes as he squints and turns in a circle twice.

“What?”

“Where in the hell are we? I don’t see the wall anymore.”

Levi scans their surroundings, his jaw tensing in irritation as his eyes narrow.  “What in Sina’s fucking name…”

“Why are the trees so small here?” Eren wonders out loud.  “And what was that thing?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like we were sucked into a Titan’s asshole and shit back out.”

Eren raises an eyebrow.  “Titans don’t have assholes, Levi.”

“Thanks, Hanji,” Levi scoffs, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  He flicks them down to Eren’s lower half, smirking.  “Sometimes they do…”

Eren can’t hide his blush, the one that still comes even now when Levi is suggestive.  Suggestive in the middle of The Sisters know where after they were sucked into a random tempest in the sky, having one working set of gear between them.  And Eren is sure he couldn’t love Levi more.

“We can’t use the gear,” Levi explains and looks up.  “None of these trees are tall enough.”

“I could transform.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.  We haven’t any idea where we are.  There could be townsfolk nearby, and we don’t want those dipshits to start a riot.” Levi sighs.  “We could be between the walls or halfway to the ocean by now.”

“What should we do?”

Levi looks around, glancing in the direction of the sunset, and points behind him.  “If we walk back this way we have to run into a wall, all the settlements were to our west.”

Eren shrugs, “I guess.”

There hasn’t been a time in the past when Levi has ever steered Eren wrong.  Levi is a good soldier, and he has good instincts.  Instincts that probably come from the fact he doesn’t care about being an ordinary soldier, to begin with.  Still, something doesn’t sit right. The air in this place feels different, and the hair on the back of his neck is beginning to stand on end.

“Levi, I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either, but we can’t stay here,” Levi says as he takes Eren’s hand and pulls him along.  “Keep your eyes open and pray we get back before those cretins come looking for us.”


	3. DP and Weasel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to our last pair :)

“Hey, Eren, is there anything that needs to be done before lockup?”

Petra is standing in the entryway of the rehearsal studio, leaning against the wall while the brunette tangles himself up in silks.

“No, thank you, Petra.  You and the others can go home,” he says, wrapping fabric about his waist before hooking his knee through it.  Every movement is practiced, confident, and fluid.  There is no reaction from the redhead when Eren performs his wheeldown, halting his descent just a couple of feet from the floor.

“Don’t stay too much longer.  Mikasa’s party is only a couple of hours away, and you know how she gets when you’re not on time.”

“I know how _he_ gets when I’m not on time,” Eren laughs, fully unraveling himself so he can place his feet on the ground.  “If I’m late home Levi will skin me alive, stuff me back in, and tell people that my costume this year is a hairless Shar Pei.”

“Who are you guys going as this year?”

“Deadpool and Weasel,” the brunette grins.

“Not Spider-Man?”

“Nah.  I mean, I ship it, but Spidey is a little too goody-goody for me, y’know?  I like Weasel.  He’s a smartass.  DP’s right-hand man.”

“You made that sound way too sexual,” Petra smirks, arms crossing over her chest.

“Oh, did I?” he waggles his eyebrows, obviously not the least bit sorry.

“Oi! Petra!  You ready?” Oluo calls, emerging from the back of the studio.

“Yeah!  You got harness checks done?”

The elder man nods, stone-faced.  He takes his job as equipment tech incredibly seriously, which is why Eren hired him in the first place.  He never worries about any failures in his harnesses, silks, or straps.  Infuriating as he can sometimes be, Oluo only ever has the safety of the aerial team in mind.  Particularly since his wife is part of it.

“Alright, we’re outta here then.  See you and Levi at 8!”

“He’ll probably have me shoved out the door by 7:30.”

Petra just snickers, taking Oluo by the hand, waving once more as they exit the building.

With a sigh, Eren begins packing up his things to return home.  He can’t work without a spotter, and what he’d said about Levi skinning him was too close to the truth for comfort.  The raven absolutely detested being late.  He was already annoyed he had to attend the party to begin with, seeing as he and Mikasa weren’t exactly the best of friends.  He’d only agreed to be Deadpool because strangers would believe he was only playing a character when he was really just being himself.

“Plenty of people like you for you, you know,” Eren had told him.

“Not your sister,” was the grumbled reply he received.

It was a fair point.

Collecting the last of his belongings and swinging his rehearsal bag over his back, he peers outside to see the sky has become overcast, little flecks of lightning dotting the sky.  It’s strange weather for Trost this time of year.

“Huh,” he huffs, “I don’t remember rain being in the forecast today.”

With a shrug he heads out, hoping to beat the rain since he’d chosen to walk to the studio.  Every now and then he glances skyward as if looking up will show him the sun instead of the matte grey that sprawls before him.  No such luck, of course.

The walk home is luckily a short one, and the brunette almost makes it there without incident.  He stops at a corner, checking for traffic before crossing, and as he turns his head to the left, he sees something falling from the sky.  He doesn’t notice the car barreling towards him until it honks and its brakes screech.

“Hey, you fuckstain!  Get out of the road!” the driver barks at him.

“I have the right of way you shit stick!  Fuck off!” Eren returns, pointing at the “walk” sign, his face red with anger.  “Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

The driver of the vehicle yells something incomprehensible at Eren as he continues on his way, fuming.  Eren flips him off, though his attention has returned to the section of sky where he’d witnessed something hurtling towards the ground.

“What was it?” he wonders aloud, eyebrows furrowing.  He wants to go investigate.  His curiosity nearly gets the best of him, but he checks his phone, sees its already 6:30, and sprints the rest of the way home.

Levi’s going to kill him.

* * *

When Eren pokes his head in the door, scanning left and right for his boyfriend, he discovers the raven is nowhere to be found.  He exhales in relief as he enters the apartment, closing the door and setting his bag down.  When he turns around, however, he sees a pissed off Deadpool waiting for him, and he just about jumps out of his skin, his shriek sounding like something akin to a howler monkey.

“You’re late,” a deep voice rumbles from behind the mask, arms crossed over a broad chest.

“I know!  I’m sorry!  Some asshole almost hit me with his car, and I saw something falling out of the sky, and…”

“Are you ok?” Levi asks, pulling off his mask, fingers running through a now messy tangle of neon yellow and ebony.  His expression would look neutral to anybody else, but Eren can see the concern in his eyes.  He loves that Levi can go from hardass to overtly worried with little thought.

“I’m alright.  Not a scratch on me.”

“You’re sure?” the elder asks, turning him around to look him over.

“I’m fine,” Eren laughs lightly.  “Let me go shower up, and I’ll get dressed for the party.”

“Hurry up.  We’re already running behind.”

Eren just waves him off as he heads down the hall, stripping as he goes.

“Just be glad we don’t have costumes that need makeup.”

“I don’t do makeup,” Levi snorts.

“You’re a model!  And I’ve seen you in drag!” Eren protests from the bathroom.

“That’s for work.  Somebody else does my makeup.”

“Dressing in drag is for Pride!”

“Yeah.  And who does my makeup for Pride?”

“…I do,” the brunette admits.

“I don’t do makeup,” Levi reiterates smugly.

* * *

As predicted, Levi has them out the door by 7:30.  There had been a slight mishap involving Eren’s glue-on beard, but nothing a little solvent couldn’t fix.

“I am not kissing you with that thing on your face,” Levi tells him as they head to the car.  “It’s like you skinned a mangy ferret and attached its mutilated pelt to your chin.”

“It disturbs me that you make such a perfect Deadpool.”

“Really?  It pleases me that you’re such a perfect Weasel.”

The brunette snorts, looking skyward once more before ducking inside Levi’s little Toyota Corolla.  He can’t help but wonder what it was he saw on the way home.

“What’s on your mind, brat?” the elder asks.

“Nothing,” he answers, scratching at his fake beard.  “The weather’s just a bit unusual for this time of year, isn’t it?  It should be getting ready to snow, but it felt like rain when I left the studio.”

Levi only shrugs, pulling away from the curb to start the drive to Mikasa’s place.

“Global warming has fucked shit up everywhere.  An out of season rainstorm is to be expected at this point.”

“It’s not just that,” the brunette frowns.  “I’m pretty sure I saw something falling, too.”

“Probably just an unlucky bird that got struck by lightning.  It happens.”

“It seemed awfully big to be a bird.”

“Well, what else could it have been?”

“I dunno.  A person maybe?”

“Were there any planes flying overhead?” Levi queries, his expression thoughtful.

“No…”

“So, you’re telling me that you think a person materialized in midair and fell to their doom?”

“Yes?  No?  I don’t know,” Eren scowls.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time upside down in those silks, kid.”

“Rude,” the taller grouses.

“No.  Deadpool,” Levi says with a chuckle.


	4. Convergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok nerds, we're getting real close now. Real close. - IBT

In the dark, they move through the forest, the odd smells and grating sounds becoming stronger and louder as they discreetly leave their landing zone behind.  They’re silent about it for the time being, opting instead to focus solely on the task before them, though the sorcerer wrinkles his nose and sneezes while the wood elf’s ears flick in annoyance.

Despite their apprehension and discomfort, their feet are both light and swift as they continue making their way covertly across the expanse of grass.  They race from bushes to groupings of small trees while avoiding a well-worn path carved through the forest.  Usually, the two are never so stealthy, but wherever they are the location exudes an energy that is unfamiliar to them.

The two have been across many lands in their exploits, from treacherous dungeons to the tops of nearly impassable mountains.  Together they have delved into the deepest of caves and darkest forests, fighting menacing creatures bent on cutting them to pieces.  Some of those places have left them with their hair standing on end and a sharp sense of dread, yet none had felt as eerily surreal as where they are now.

“An enchanted forest?” Levi whispers in question when he sees peculiar lights beyond the next copse of trees.

“Maybe,” Eren concedes before halting Levi and pointing at a nearby structure.  “But a more important question is what in Aerdrie Faenya’s name is that?”

“A tiny castle?” Levi wonders.

Both men take in the site.  The earth is riddled with what seem to be ground up tree-folk.  Two spires rise up from the ground, with a wooden bridge stretched between them, and something which looks like a green chute descends from one of the towers.  It appears as if it’s been crafted to dispose of bodies.

A shiver runs up Eren’s spine as he scans the stronghold.  “It’s small and seems unguarded, but don’t go near it,” he says with a frown, traversing the exterior for a better look.  “It’s likely a wizard tower.  Probably enchanted.”

“After the last time, I think I’ve had my fill of wizards,” Levi says.

“That last one seemed kind of rapey.”

Levi shudders at the memory of the scantily clad and far too suggestive wizard who kept them pinned behind an overturned table for near an entire evening.  “Do we ever fight anyone who isn’t rapey?”

“I don’t think so.”

Levi prods them forward again, and they abandon their conversation, the pair only stopping when nothing’s left but a line of trees between them and the strange lights they noticed earlier.  Crouching down in some foliage, they remain silent while surveying as best they can. 

Unfortunately, only one of them is currently capable of gathering information.  Most of the time, Eren’s sense of hearing is useful, but it occasionally becomes more of a liability than an asset.  There’s a cacophony of blaring and screeching, and an unceasing buzz that has his tender ears in overdrive. 

“Levi…” Eren whimpers, holding his hands to his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like it here, it sounds…unnatural.”

“What do you hear?” Levi asks.

“Not sure, but it’s all so loud,” Eren winces.  “It almost hurts,”

“We’ll find somewhere quiet, but we’ve got to keep moving.”

“Easy for you to say.” Eren grits his teeth. “You’re not the one whose ears feel like they’re about to explode and fly off your head.”

Levi recoils slightly at the mental image.  “I’ll make them better once we find somewhere to stay.”

“Promise?” Eren asks, unable to hide his smile.

“Promise,” Levi agrees solemnly.

They can’t hide in the bushes forever, and once Eren is able to find his bearings they decide to move forward.  Both of them are starving, and they’re never going to figure out where the hell they are unless they breach the last obstacle before them and keep heading toward the lights.

The situation has both of them feeling edgy and skittish, but Levi is the first to stand and move ahead with Eren close behind.  He clambers through vegetation only to find himself on something which resembles a path before he steps down, seeing buildings across a wide road.  When Eren breaks through the treeline, it’s just in time to see Levi nearly run down by the strangest cart either of them has ever laid eyes on.

“What in the fuck!” Levi yells, jumping backward as a shiny, swift-moving carriage almost strikes him. He’s tempted to fling fire at the offender in retaliation but is stopped as thin fingers wrap around a raised arm.

“Don’t,” Eren quietly warns.  “We could be in Oblivion or the Shadow Realm.  Who knows what evil makes its home here.”

Levi rolls his eyes and shakes his arm free, scoffing, “This isn’t Oblivion or the Shadow Realm, you overgrown beanstalk!”

“Have you ever been there?” Eren asks, scowling down at Levi.

“No, but it’s not those.  They don’t even have carts in Oblivion!  They have gates, and blood, and man-eating plants, but they don’t have fucking carts!”

“But they have carts in the Shadow Realm.”

“It’s also full of wraiths!  Have you seen any wraiths?”

“Fine!” Eren concedes with a roll of his eyes.  “But we should still be careful.”

Both men look around and take in their surroundings.  There are lights on poles which don’t appear to be fed by fire, and metallic carriages are everywhere.  Some are moving, some are stopped and have no attendants, but it’s clear as another shoots by them they’re not only the source of the awful smell and sound.  They’re dangerous as well.

“Levi,” Eren whispers as he holds his nose and looks around, “look over there.”

The sight that greets Levi is both welcoming and frightening at the same time.  Adventurers are milling about the town, some appearing quite ordinary while others are dressed in a manner that neither of them has ever seen.  Some of their weapons look foreign.  So foreign that he isn’t sure if they’re actually weapons at all. 

Long shining tubes are hanging about travelers’ waists, and objects that look like glowing swords are strapped to the backs of various people.  For the most part, they seem quite jovial, and possibly drunk.

Still, it has both of them anxious.  Many of the people look as if they would be formidable in battle, and though none of them seem like a threat, Eren is still trepidatious.  He stops Levi before he can march to the other side of the street.

“Could this be the smuggler's village?” he asks.

Levi is not keen on the idea of hiding and does his best to drag Eren along while avoiding being flattened by the metallic carriages as they cross the road.  “We’ve been to the smuggler's village.  Do you remember it looking anything like this?”

“No,” Eren answers, scratching his head.

Levi once again tugs Eren’s hand which is clasped within his own.  He knows he is being cautious, but lying low, cowering and being so obviously careful has a tendency to draw attention.  Levi has enough experience to know it’s smarter for them to try and blend in.

“The adventurers all appear to be congregating in that place.  Some of them look like sorcerers,” Levi observes as he points ahead.  “Come on, I bet it’s an inn.”

As they arrive on the opposite side of the street, Eren is tempted to cover his ears.  There is loud, unfamiliar music, so wild and pounding that it barely sounds like music at all.  He shakes his head, Levi continuing to lead him as they climb the steps and slip beyond an open door that leads into the building.

Once inside they’re greeted by what appears to be a strange tavern.  The smell of alcohol is heavy, and there are plenty of whores on offer.  Most are dressed provocatively and grinding their bodies against some of the male patrons.  The dances – if they could be called that – are nothing like the two have ever witnessed.

“Do you see an innkeeper?” Levi asks as he stands on his tiptoes attempting to scan for the bar.

“No, I see a lot of harlots though.”

Eren presses against Levi as the hand of a woman drifts a bit too close to his ass. “They’re awfully friendly here.”

Levi scoffs.  “Of course they are, they’re prostitutes.  And they never have information unless you pay them, so let’s not waste our time or the gold we stole.”

It’s only when they turn to move through the crowd that a woman who appears to be dressed like a cat blocks their progress.  Eren’s eyes widen as he watches her hand slowly move up toward one of his ears, and he doesn’t need to look at Levi to know he is irritated.

Before she can make contact, he jerks his head away, unable to stop his frown.  This isn’t the time, or place, or person for this.  His delicate ears have been giving him trouble since they landed in the forest and he certainly doesn’t need some feline impersonator fussing with them.

“Those are so cool!” the woman exclaims, her eyes bright and wide with wonder.  “They look so real.”

“They are real, you harpy,” Levi sneers before he walks away muttering, “what else would they be?”

Eren follows, leaving the woman in their wake.  Levi has taken a significant liking to his ears as of late, and Eren senses a small streak of possessiveness and protectiveness over them.  He can’t say he’s opposed to it.

Unfortunately, to both Levi and Eren’s dismay, more people try to touch them as they cut a trail through the crowd until they make it down a less populated hallway.  They’re confused by the lack of both a bar and discussion of quests.  These places are most often host to shady deals and whispered conversations.  Yet everyone they encounter seems more concerned with drinking and dancing or discussing a delicious plate of “nachos” which was recently deposited across the room if the stampede moving that direction is anything to go by.

They take the distraction as an opportunity to slip into a room beyond a closed door which looks something like a kitchen when they enter.

“I smell food,” Levi says.

Eren sniffs deeply, eyes lighting up when he sees fruit in what looks to be an open pantry.

“There are apples!” Eren groans rubbing his stomach.  “I’m so hungry,”

Levi taps his chin before checking to be sure they are alone.  “We can take a few to settle your unruly belly, but then we have to figure out where the fuck we are.”

* * *

It doesn’t take long for the shifter and the captain to clear the edge of the forest.  Luckily there are no titans or Marleyans to be found, yet the pair is careful as they stride out onto what appears to be a street and assess the area.

There are people around.  In fact, there are people everywhere, and none of them are dressed in a manner either man has ever seen.  Levi is immediately disgusted.  The residents look like demons in their masks.  It reminds him of the insufferable merchant class who reside within the inner walls and the odd masquerade balls of excess they partake in, while outside of their protective cocoon children die of starvation in the streets.

These people look well fed, taken care of, and clean, unlike most of the people he and Eren see every day in the streets of the outer districts.  It occurs to Levi that the storm possibly flung them into the interior, but he has been there, and that place provides no space for any natural areas like the one they landed in.

“Could it be a town outside the walls that we never knew about? A Marley base?” Eren asks.

“This doesn’t feel like a base.”

“They have technology that we don’t,” Eren points out.

“That’s true, but this seems different,” Levi says.  “Keep your eyes open.”

They walk along the edge of the street, noting people in unfamiliar attire everywhere they look.  One group nearly bumps into them, and Levi is immediately at the ready, staring down a strange woman with bright pink hair.

“Oh sorry,” she says when Levi throws her a venomous glare.

She looks the two men up and down, reaching out a hand toward Eren’s gear.

Eren takes a step back and frowns.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Your costumes are so cool though! Did you order them from Japan?”

Neither of them has heard of such a thing or place before, and before they can draw any more attention, Eren is nervously looking for an escape route.  “Yes, exactly,” he says curtly before he hooks his arm around Levi’s elbow and practically pulls his now dangerously suspicious boyfriend down the street.

“What’s Japan?” Levi asks under his breath.

“I don’t know.  Maybe the storm threw us across the ocean.”

Levi snorts, but he finds he can’t really dismiss the idea.

They are met with more excited townsfolk ogling their clothing and weapons.  Thankfully none seem hostile, but the two attempt to keep their distance just to be safe.  After they’ve walked for a time, they notice people congregating near a building.  It seems to be a large house, or possibly a tavern, and they find themselves standing across the street watching it for a few moments.

The two have found themselves in strange situations, circumstances which at the time seemed to defy logic.  Still, this feels different than anything which came before it.  They may be Humanity’s Strongest and Humanity’s Hope, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility their enemies are much more advanced than was initially believed.  It is possible their foes have formulated a plan to get them out of the way.  It would explain why they were the only ones who were sucked into the storm, though that still doesn’t give them any clue as to where they’ve been deposited and why no one has attempted to kill them.

“That looks like some kind of gathering place,” Levi notes, but he makes no move to venture onward just yet.  It’s entirely possible it could be a trap.

“We’re never going to figure out where the hell we are just standing here.”

The place Levi is staring at looks stranger than any inn or bar the two have ever laid eyes on. There’s loud music and funny lights and décor.  Many of the people standing on the porch appear intoxicated by whatever they’re sipping from the red cups they hold in their hands.  It reminds him of places within the Underground, though despite how repelled he is, he knows areas such as these are usually the best for gathering information.  He attempts to deduce the building’s layout from the outside, shuddering when he sees a woman retching over the railing.

“Disgusting.” 

“Are we going in there?” Eren asks.

“I don’t see any other choice,” Levi sighs, pulling Eren along as they cross the road, barely dodging a horseless carriage. 

“This music is terrible,” Eren shouts, trying to keep his shoulders from hunching up to his ears.

“I’ve never heard anything like it, but it makes me want to rail someone in the jaw.” 

As they force their way into the establishment, they’re met with more curious stares, and Levi does his best to keep both himself and Eren from bumping into what seem to be tipsy party goers.  They’re almost trampled by a group of drunken men pushing and shoving playfully at each other, and Levi rolls his eyes remembering how rowdy the recruits would get when Erwin used to let the brats have ale.

It doesn’t take long to discover that the inside is worse than the outside.  Loud and disorderly.  The entry room is filled with commotion and blinking, oddly colored lights.  They both watch as people surround a table on the far side of the room, elbowing at each other to get at what appears to be food.

Levi leans up to whisper in Eren’s ear. “This is the strangest whorehouse I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve been in one?” Eren asks, his voice rising.

“I was born in a bordello, and grew up in the Underground,” Levi explains.  “But I’ve never been a customer if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s not as if Eren believes he’s the only person to have ever had Levi, but from what Eren has seen, women are all you can buy at the whorehouses, and Levi’s never seemed the type to pay for sex.  He’s certainly not the type that would have to, anyway.  And more importantly, Eren is entirely sure Levi is gay.  Very, very gay.

“I wasn’t worried,” Eren squeaks.  “Only confused.”

Their conversation is disrupted when the group of brutes begins yelling again, smashing into them a second time.

“This is the best Halloween party in Trost!” one of the oafs shouts.

Levi’s head snaps around as he looks up at Eren in disbelief.  “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah. We’re in Trost?”

“If this is Trost, then I’ll suck your dick every day for the rest of my life.”

“What if it is?” 

“Then we have bigger problems than we thought and my jaw will eventually fall off,” Levi says as he seizes Eren’s hand once again.  “We’re not going to get answers from these shitstains.  Keep moving.”

Eren allows Levi to pull him along, though he strains ears through the racket to gather any piece of information he can as Levi trudges toward a hallway.  He stops mid-step sure he heard someone say, “no one throws a better party than Mikasa.”

“Levi, stop.”

He acquiesces with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed huff of, “what is it?”

“I think someone said something about Mikasa…that this is her party or whorehouse.  I don’t know.”

“Impossible,” Levi says.  “Let’s keep going, it seems quieter down there.  I can barely hear you over these animals.”

They move down a mostly empty hallway and creep into the kitchen as nonchalantly as possible, Eren stilling the swinging door behind them.  The room blessedly appears to be empty, though they’re both confident it won’t be for long.

“This can’t be Trost,” Levi says as he crosses his arms.

“We both heard that man.  He said this was the best party in Trost.”

Levi smirks. “Wishful thinking, Brat.”

“He definitely said, Trost.  Though it doesn’t look like Trost, and there’s no way the storm threw us that far.  We’d be dead.”

“I would be dead,” Levi corrects.

“I swear someone said it’s Mikasa’s party.”

“Clean your ears out, your sister doesn’t have time to throw a party or run a house of ill repute.  When does the Corps ever have time for parties or buying strumpets?  You and I barely have time for sex as it is.”

Levi has a point, but Eren is sure he heard the name correctly.  Nothing makes any sense.  They’re supposedly in Trost, the streets have been overrun with vehicles sans horses, everyone is dressed oddly, and there’s no wall to be seen.  Stranger still, no one seems to recognize Levi or Eren’s uniforms.  The girl on the street had even called them “costumes” and everyone in Trost should be more than familiar with their style of dress.

They lean against a counter, Eren scrubbing his hands over his face in exasperation.  “I don’t see how we’re going to learn anything here.”

“Tch, I’ve never seen such a poorly managed brothel.”

“Where should we go?  We have to…” Eren whispers, his voice trailing off when they hear rustling coming from what looks to be a closet.

Levi turns to Eren, presses his finger to his lips, and slides forward a step.  “Time to come out of the closet!”

There’s some noise, some speaking in hushed tones, and someone calling another person a “grumpy halfling” before the pair of pantry raiders slowly step out.

The captain and the shifter only stare, eyes going comically wide as the sorcerer and wood elf stare back, snacks held tightly in their arms.

It’s almost like looking in a mirror, though their dress is dissimilar and the wood elf has incredibly large pointy ears.  There’s a moment when sputtering from the wood elf, and the shifter is the only sound to be heard, both their mouths moving in false starts until the captain and sorcerer simultaneously reach out to quiet their own companions.

“Levi…” the shifter mumbles in disbelief before both the sorcerer and the captain answer, “what?” in unison.

The sweets and fruit the wood elf has swiped fall to the floor with several thumps as he points an accusatory finger at the captain and the shifter.

“Imposters!” the wood elf declares.

“Shapeshifters,” the sorcerer hisses, still holding his goodies protectively to his chest.

The captain grits his teeth as his eyes move from the wood elf to the sorcerer.  “Imposters?  You’re the imposters!  Just look those ears!  And I would never wear that outfit!”

“My ears!” the shifter yells as he points back at the wood elf.

The wood elf frowns in genuine offense. “What’s wrong with my ears?”

“Nothing,” the sorcerer assures before narrowing his eyes at his clone.

“Sure, if you call ripping the ears off an overgrown rat and sewing them onto your head, ‘nothing.’”

The sorcerer nearly growls.  “I will shove you so far up your own ass, you’ll be coughing up your boots, changeling!”

The two Erens look on aghast, both trying to think of a way to calm their respective Levis, who both look as though they’re about to tear each other in two.

“Levi?” both Erens question.

Neither Levis’ eyes leave the other as they advise, “be ready, Eren.”

Both sets of men are examining each other suspiciously.  Hands are poised near weapons, teeth bared, and the sorcerer drops his spoils preparing to cast a spell if need be.  It’s only the entry of another pair of party goers which breaks the tension momentarily before it ramps up another notch.

“Let’s chill out in here for a minute,” a masked man whispers to his taller companion.  The voice is disconcertingly familiar.

“We can leave soon I swear.  I still want to check out the park, though.  I have a really weird feeling about it,” the taller man says as he turns and freezes. 

The four on the verge of battle look over at the intruders who are apparently attempting to escape the party.

It’s a short man whose face is obscured and a taller one who looks remarkably like the wood elf and the shifter, only he’s donning a scruffy beard.

His eyes dart frantically about as he absorbs the scene in front of him and clutches his smaller partner. 

“Levi...LEVI, LEVI!”

Heads swivel, necks crane, Erens are looking questioningly at Levis while Levis are carefully and silently sizing each other up.  There is an aura of confusion and disbelief so thick it feels as though it’s choking the air from the room.  No one dares to speak, and no one dares to move until the masked man pulls off his disguise and all eyes land on a familiar face.

Grey eyes which match two other pairs sweep across the room as his mask tumbles to the floor. 

“What in the actual fuck?”

The only answer he receives is three Erens simultaneously screaming.


	5. Always Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're stuck in a bathroom. A favorite place of any Levi, obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are going to be all sorts of references in this fic, so please share what you think (or know) we're referencing!
> 
> Last chapter we referenced two of our pairs hearing unfamiliar music. What do you think was playing?

Three hands clap over dropped jaws, muffling the screams.  A disturbingly well-timed, “Quiet, brat!” is hissed by all three Levis, the trio of ravens glaring at each other while they do their best to silence their partners.  There is a brief moment of quiet, pale hands slowly removing themselves from mouths that are still slack, though no further sound escapes any of the Erens.

The captain is the first one to speak, eyes narrowed as he addresses the lookalike in the red getup.  “Who the hell are you?”

“Levi Ackerman,” the red-suited male responds.  “Who the fucking shit are you, and why do you look like me?”

The captain scowls deeply, though his expression is one of confusion rather than anger. 

“How the fuck are you Levi Ackerman?  I’m Levi Ackerman.”

“The hell you are!  I’m Levi Ackerman!” the sorcerer interjects.

“Levi, I think I’m gonna be sick,” the wood elf complains, leaning against his companion, the two still stationed close to the pantry.

The sorcerer scowls down at the half-empty bag still gripped in the wood elf’s hand. 

“I told you not to eat those weird triangle things!  I swear to shit those are poison at best and enchanted at worst.  By Oblivion’s wraith den, why don’t you ever think before you put things in your mouth, Eren?”

“If I had done that we wouldn’t be together,” the elf mutters, pinning his ears back.  “And those crunchy triangles were delicious!”

“I’m sorry,” the shifter interrupts, brows drawing together, “but did you just call him Eren?”

“Of course I did,” the sorcerer says.  “It’s his fucking name.  What else would I call him?”

“Brat,” the other two Levis supply.

“Ok, that needs to stop, like, yesterday,” the bearded male cringes, clearly uncomfortable.  “And he can’t be Eren because I’m…”

“Eren?” a feminine voice calls.  “Eren, where are you?”

“Mikasa!” the three brunettes exclaim, panic etched into their faces.

The raven in the red suit seizes his Eren by his shirt, who in turn grabs the captain.  He complains about being manhandled but surprisingly does nothing beyond grabbing his russet-locked counterpart.  The young soldier grips the black leather vest of the sorcerer as he is hauled past, and he has just enough time to nab the elf by his robes before they’re unceremoniously removed from the kitchen.

Hissed curses permeate the air as the sextet is lead into the bathroom across the hall by the Levi in the red suit.  There is a notable lack of space, and the complaining is constant.

“Ow!  That’s my foot!”

“Watch my hair!”

“Son of a bitch, that’s my fucking eye!”

“Eren, move over!”

“I am over!”

“Not you!”

“Would you fucking idiots let me in!?” the costumed Levi snarls, just barely managing to squeeze inside with the rest of them.

They’re crammed in like sardines, the two men with the peculiar boxes on their hips taking up most of the room, each trying to stuff himself in a corner to make way for the others.  The sorcerer is awkwardly perched in the bowl of the bathroom sink while his counterpart has taken up residence on the toilet lid.  So where is the last Eren?

“Brat” is on the tip of the neon-haired raven’s tongue, but he thinks better of it and instead calls, “Yo!  Weasel!  Where are you?”

“I’m in the fucking bathtub—AUGH!!!”

The sound of bottles raining down on the poor brunette can be heard.  Mikasa has a ridiculous number of products in her shower thanks to Annie staying over more often than not.  Levi doesn’t understand why they just don’t fucking move in together already.

“You ok there?” one of them asks.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” another says.  None of them can really check.  There’s barely enough room to breathe, let alone move.

“I’m covered in coconut conditioner and strawberry-lime bath gel!” the bearded brunette laments. 

“Eren?” a concerned voice sounds from the other side of the door.  “Are you in there, are you ok?”

The man in red holds a gloved finger up to his lips, indicating for the others to remain quiet before he turns his head towards the closed door and says, “He’s fine, Mikasa.  I’m taking care of him.”

“Levi?  What are you doing in there with him?  I swear to shit if you’re sucking him off on the toilet I will pitch your dwarf ass out a window!”

A loud snort erupts from somewhere within the bathroom, and Levi automatically raises a middle finger to flip off the perpetrator.  Rotten ingrates.  He’s saving their collective asses!

“That’s fucking disgusting, Eek!  Although it’s not as gross as your brother spilling his guts in here.  He’s piss ass drunk, I’m just waiting for him to finish hurling so I can take him home!”

“Hey!” comes a piteous whine.  It’s faint, coming from the bathtub, but the pathetic pitch of the voice only makes the concocted story more believable.

“Don’t call me Eek!” Mikasa commands through the door.

“No problem, Eek!”

“Could you guys please not fight?  I can’t deal with this right now,” an Eren groans.

Red-suit has no clue which one it is, but he’s grateful for it all the same.

“Mikasa, I promise I will have him call you tomorrow, but for right now could you just…”

A loud screech is the next unexpected noise in the bathroom as the toilet flushes, the wood elf screeching, “DEMON!!” while trying to scramble away from the porcelain throne of doom.  There’s nowhere for him to go, and he has to settle for shoving himself against the booted feet of the silver-streaked Levi.

“How fucking drunk is he!?” the ravenette queries, alarm evident in her tone.

“I don’t know!  How much fucking gin did you put in that punch?” Levi shoots back, grunting as he’s pinched against the countertop near the sink.  Levi’s little Weasel has had zero punch because he knows _exactly_ what happens to Eren when he consumes gin.  There’s no need for Mikasa to know that he’s sober as a stone. 

A heavy sigh from behind the door tells Levi that he’s ultimately won the battle for the night and he exhales in relief when the young woman verbally concedes.

“Get him home and in bed.  Have him call me when he’s feeling better,” she grumbles.

“Yes, doctor.  No problem,” he mocks with an annoyed huff.  Levi knows he’s being petty, but he’s currently under a lot of stress and he doesn’t have the social skills nor the desire to deal with his pseudo-nemesis any longer.  He only hears her mutter, “Asshole,” before stomping back down the hall to monitor her party, leaving the awkward crew to figure out what the next step is.

The answer comes reasonably quickly when a disgruntled Weasel finally pushes himself upright in the tub, a scowl firmly in place on his face.

“Why do I always get blamed for this shit?!” he inquires, soap bottles thunking on the bottom of the basin as he stands.

“Because it’s always your fault!” his boyfriend offers.

“How is this,” the shaggy male gestures wildly towards the rest of the group, “my fault!?”

“I don’t fucking know!  You probably farted too hard and tore a hole in the goddamned universe!”

“He went straight to the ass jokes,” the harnessed brunette says, astounded.

“He always does,” the elf huffs, an ear twitching and a small smile tipping up the corner of his mouth.

“None of you are helping!” the costumed man spits, trying to keep his voice low as he leans forward and cocks his head.  “Look, we don’t have a lot of time.  We need to get the fuck out of here.”

“And go where?” one of them asks.  The voice is deep and worn, probably the elder male.

“The apartment is the only place we can take them,” Eren speaks up from the back.  “Fuck, this shit is all over my beard!”

“We’ll deal with it later!”

“Why should we trust you?” the elf protests from the floor, apprehension evident in his voice.

They look at each other, heads slowly turning, eyes shifting about as all six appraise one another silently. Suspicion hangs heavy, written in their expressions as they each assess their current situation.

“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice,” the costumed Levi quips, leaning against the closed door.  “Not unless you’d like to make this bathroom your new home.”

“I don’t like any of this,” the sorcerer rumbles, wincing.  The faucet is pressing into his hip, and he’s real fucking tired of sitting in a sink.

“You don’t have to like it,” the elder speaks again, “but, our oddly clothed compatriot is right.  We can’t stay here.  We need to go somewhere private and quiet to sort out this mess.”

“They could kill us, Levi.”

“We wouldn’t do that!” Eren objects, scratching at his beard.  It’s starting to peel away.

“I might,” Levi says with a shrug, tucking gloved hands beneath his armpits.  He’s too introverted to be in such a group of people for an extended period of time.  He’s barely social enough to have left his home for a Halloween party, and he’s assuredly less than equipped to deal with two copies of himself and their brats.

“Stop that!  Be hospitable!”

Levi rolls his eyes, doing his best to turn around so he can open the door up and peek through the crack.  Nobody’s coming their way, and it’s probably going to be the only opportunity they have to make a clean escape.  The back door is right through the kitchen.  All they have to do is make it across the hall and they’ll be home free.

“Hallway is clear,” Levi announces with a flick of his head over his shoulder.  “Go back into the kitchen, take a right.  There are two stairs there that lead to a door.  Follow the dude with the beard and the tight ass.  He’ll bring you to the car.”

“What’s a car?” an Eren asks.

“Are you serious right now?”

“As a titan transformation.”

“What the fuck is a…you know what, no.  Never mind.  Just follow the dude in the tub once you all get out of here.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you.  Christ, we’re leaving a party, not escaping from the Gulag!”

“What’s—“

“Later!  I’ll explain shit _later_!  Now come on!”

Without further ado, Levi slips into the hallway, making sure no one is coming before gesturing for the bizarre posse to cautiously slide out before he follows behind.  Once they file into the kitchen, Weasel Eren makes his way to the front of the group to lead them outside.  Levi takes one last look around to discover that someone dressed as Captain America has been watching them.

“Uh…are you, uh…done in there?” he slurs.  He’s drunk, and that works in Levi’s favor.

“Oh, yeah,” Levi shrugs casually.  “All yours.”

“Were there…I mean, were you guys…uh…”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, I just saw five other guys…”

“Did you?”

“I’m pretty sure that I…”

“Drank too much punch.  That pineapple gin fizz of Eek’s packs a wallop,” Levi grins.

“Right…yeah…ok…” Captain America mumbles, drunkenly shuffling into the bathroom.

The moment the superhero disappears inside the restroom Levi books it for the exit.  He slips out into the night, but before he shuts the door behind him he pokes his head back inside, a sly smirk on his face.

“Chicka chicka!”

Nobody would ever know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Eren was eating that made him feel queasy?


	6. Where the Similarities Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if these boys can actually get their asses in a car. - IBT

The six men slip silently into the night, the two sets of visitors flanked from front and back by the Eren and Levi of this world.  Sliding from the rear of the house they travel quietly down the side and out to the sidewalk.

“What if someone sees all of us?” ‘Weasel’ calls to ‘Deadpool’ over his shoulder as he turns onto the sidewalk in the direction of Levi’s car.

“It’s Halloween,” the Levi taking up the rear answers. “If anyone asks, we’re triplets or some shit like that.”

The shifter is the next to pipe up.  “What’s Halloween?” he asks, nudging his Levi with a look of puzzlement on his face.

“Fuck if I know.” Levi shrugs, turns to his clone at the far back, and asks, “what’s Halloween?”

“It’s a holiday,” the red-clad Levi sighs and moves up to the front of the group in an attempt to get them moving faster.  “No questions right now though,” he says as he points ahead, “there’s the car.”

Other than the Eren and Levi of this world, none of the others have ridden in a car.  Their only experiences up until now have been near flattening, choking on their fumes, and the bothersome roar of their engines.

As they make it to the vehicle, there’s a piercing sound, and the sorcerer jumps back with a growl. “What in Sheogorath’s balls was that?”

The red-clad Levi holds up his fob with a smirk.  “I unlocked the doors,” he says as he looks at the shifter and the captain, eyes landing on their 3DMG.  “That shit’s going to have to go in the trunk,” he says and pops it open, smiling again when the sorcerer growls once more.  “What is all that anyway?”

“Our three-dimensional maneuver gear,” the captain says as he straightens up.

“What’s it for?” Weasel Eren enquires as he steps up to examine the shiny metal boxes hanging from his clone’s hips.

“For killing Titans,” the shifter says sounding confused.  “You don’t know what it is?”

“They’re weapons,” the captain interjects.

The red-clad Levi pinches his brow as not only the sorcerer and wood elf surround the shifter and captain with interest, but his own Eren does as well.  “All weapons go in the trunk,” he orders.  His next enquiry is heavy with exasperation.  “Does anyone else have weapons, or just these two?”

“We have swords,” the wood elf reveals.  His smile is broad as he pulls out a finely made elvish blade and holds it up proudly for the others to see.  “I could split a goblin hair with this,” he says.

On the edge of an outburst, the red-suited Levi points toward the trunk once more.  “Put it all in here,” he hisses, adding, “no weapons in the car!”  Only to slap his palm against his forehead when his own Eren produces a pocket knife and tosses it inside.

“What?” Weasel Eren shrugs.  “You said all weapons.”

“You could have kept it,” the red-clad Levi hisses with a roll of his eyes before he rounds the car, flings open a back door, opens his own, and climbs into the driver’s seat.  “C’mon, let’s get going before I stuff you all in the trunk.”

It takes the shifter and the captain a few minutes to detach their gear, though the sorcerer and wood elf relinquish their blades quickly and lay them in the trunk, merely watching as the other two finish. The captain is uncomfortable with the idea of locking all his weapons away where he can’t access them, and he keeps his trusty knife in his boot, smirking when his own Eren looks down to where he always hides it and widens his eyes.

“Shhh,” the captain intones to his Eren as he shuts the trunk.  The red-clad man may look like him, he may even claim to have the same name, but he doesn’t fully trust him, and he’ll be none the wiser if the captain retains his hidden blade.

Getting into the car is proves to be a monumental undertaking.  The shifter figures it out quickly, opens the door and sits on the rear passenger side behind his modern counterpart.  The captain stands beside him on the curb as he leans over to look inside while the sorcerer attempts to wrestle a fearful wood elf into the vehicle.

“Levi,” he whines, “I don’t want to go in there. It’s too small, and those speedy carts are so loud.” He looks down imploringly at his partner with puppy-dog eyes and whispers, “my ears...”

“They’ll be fine,” is the only answer the sorcerer gives before he grabs the half-eaten bag of triangle things the wood elf is still clinging to and tosses them on the ground.

“Litterbug!” Weasel Eren admonishes as he watches stunned.

The sorcerer doesn’t know what a “litterbug” is and doesn’t bother asking, instead, he backs himself into the center of the back seat and drags the stunned wood elf along by his robes, smashing himself up against the shifter while trying to soothe his flailing companion.

It’s cramped and uncomfortable, and the shifter has taken an accidental elbow to his face to which he receives a quick apology from the sorcerer.

“What the fuck is going on back there?”  the red-clad Levi seethes as he turns around.

“We’re trying to fit,” the wood elf says with a squirm and tentatively pulls the door shut catching the edge of his clothing in it.  “My robes!”

“Forget about them for now,” the sorcerer says, assuring, “they’ll be fine,” with a pat on the elf’s leg.

The captain surveys the interior with a frown, noticing there’s no room left for him.  “Where the fuck am I supposed to sit?” he questions.

All five of the crew are tap dancing on the red-clad Levi’s last nerve.  His car is idling, the wood elf is whining, he’s sure the sorcerer is kicking his seat, the captain hasn’t gotten into the car, and his boyfriend is hunkered down looking half mortified and half excited in the front passenger seat.  When he turns again, his eyes are a bit more pleading than he’d like. “Just sit on your Eren’s lap. If he’s anything like mine, he’ll enjoy it.”

Weasel Eren smirks next to him. “I would.”

Feeling the weight of everyone else waiting, the shifter scoots himself back as best he can and makes room for his partner. “Climb on,” he says, face alight with a reverent smile as he holds out his hand to Levi.  If it were anybody else, Levi would likely punch them in the face, but he climbs in with a scowl and a grumble of, “fine.”

“Haven’t you fucking people ever heard of closing the god damn door,” the red-clad Levi practically howls.

The shifter stretches his arm and closes it, calling, “gee” at the driver as if he’s a horse.

The red-clad Levi breathes a sigh of relief, though a look of irritation remains planted on his face as he signals and pulls away from the curb, trying to ignore the elf and sorcerer’s gasps as they pick up speed.

“We’re going to die!” the wood elf yells as he grips the vest of his partner.

Weasel Eren leans on his seat looking back at his compatriots assuring, “you’re not going to die, ‘other me,’ we’re just in a car, it’s not going to hurt you.”  He smirks at the sharp frown creased into the captain’s brow as he sits perched on his Eren’s thighs, legs swung over his sorcerer twin’s lap.

His head is smashed up against the roof, neck bent at an awkward and painful angle.

“Comfortable?” the shifter asks teasingly as he runs his hand down his back.  He would never be one to complain about having Levi pressed up against him how he is, though it would be nicer if they were alone, and without the sorcerer’s shoulder pressing painfully into his upper arm.

“It’s—” the captain starts, but he’s cut off when the wood elf screams once again.

“What is it now?” the red-clad Levi growls.

“It opened, I’m going to fall out!”

Weasel Eren’s head whips around. “You must have hit the window control.”

“What kind of sorcery is that?” the sorcerer yells trying to pull the wood elf as far as he can from the door.

“Stop! My robes are stuck!”

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” The red-clad Levi rolls the window up from the controls in the front and taps the child lock. “Everybody just shut up and don’t touch anything! We’ll be there soon.”

After his command, the rest of the ride is nearly silent, Weasel Eren turning about periodically to check on the others, taking on the job of keeping the rest of them placid and quiet. He watches the captain and the shifter silently observe the sorcerer’s continued attempts to calm the wood elf who squeaks every time the red-clad Levi changes lanes. Levi is already irritated, and it helps leave him to drive in peace.

Though Eren supposes he can’t blame any of them.  He doesn’t know where these men who appear to be copies of he and Levi came from or how they got there, but based on their manner of dress and their apparent confusion it’s likely they’re unfamiliar with many of the things in his and Levi’s world. 

Noticing the other pairs seem to share a particular closeness, he smiles, thinking they must be a lot like he and Levi.  How the sorcerer hasn’t stopped trying to put the wood elf at ease, whispering to him each time his alarms are raised. The way the captain looks disgruntled, but the shifter’s hand closing over his earns him a smile and a soft look in return.  Eren won’t deny that the interactions warm his heart with their strange familiarity. 

Thankfully, his efforts have ensured they haven’t given their driver anything else to grouse about by the time the car pulls up in front of their destination.

The red-clad Levi turns around, and he doesn’t look nearly as aggravated as he had earlier.  “Follow Eren and me…my Eren, I mean.  And don’t be noisy or make a fuss,” he says before he opens his door and exits the car.

The wood elf looks at his modern counterpart and asks, “where are we?”

“At our house,” he answers, brows drawing down. “I heard you complaining about your ears, it’s quiet in there.”

To everyone’s surprise, they hit no snags exiting the car and retrieving their weapons from the trunk. The shifter and captain only carry their gear up into the apartment and deposit it by the door while the sorcerer and wood elf set their swords on a table near the entrance.  Neither pair is worried.  If this is indeed some kind of trap or trick, they have all retained smaller weapons and can get to them quickly if the need arises.

Walking through the small entryway and into the living room, the captain turns his head as he takes in the apartment looking to the shifter as his eyes widen a touch.  “It’s immaculate,” he says, appreciating the apparent lack of dust and inhaling deeply, detecting the scent of something which reminds him of perfume. “It smells like bath oils in here,” he notes.

The shifter sniffs and shrugs as he says, “kind of smells like Mikasa’s perfume.”

The wood elf smiles, agreeing with a cheerful, “yes!” 

The sorcerer huffs out a satisfied sigh at the cleanliness, and the four visitors marvel in silence at a room filled with items that are recognizable along with many others that are not. 

“It’s probably Levi’s beauty products,” Weasel Eren injects after giving the four a minute to acclimate.  “He has a million of them.”

The red-clad Levi shuffles past and rolls his eyes.  “I’ll need all of them too,” he groans. “I feel filthy after being around so many people.”

“You’re going to shower now?”  Weasel Eren lifts his arms, hands falling and slapping against his thighs in annoyance.

The red-clad Levi turns around and narrows his gaze as he looks around the room, appraising the twins of both himself and Eren before he looks at his Eren.  “Yes, I am. Get these guys situated, maybe hook them up with some snacks,” he says before he approaches Eren and whispers in his ear, “and no crumbs! I swear I’ll be right out.”

Weasel Eren rolls his eyes, deflating with a grumble as he points to his half-cocked fake beard. “What about this shit?”

“We’ll take care of it in a few minutes.”

“Alright, fine,” he agrees with a clap of his hands as Levi stalks off to their bedroom. “Why don’t you all make yourselves at home,” he says to everyone else as he sweeps his hand and points to the sofa. “I’ll get us some snacks.”

The wood elf immediately perches himself on the arm of the couch, a grin spreading across his face as he looks at his host and asks, “do you have any of those crunchy triangle things?”

“I want to try them too!” the shifter adds as he sits down on the couch next to his elfy twin.

The captain takes his place next to the shifter. He isn’t interested in triangle things, and he can see the distress in the Eren with the scraggly beard. The way he purses his lips and furrows his brow looks precisely like his Eren’s face when something is bothering him, or he’s trying to solve some kind of problem.  “What’s wrong, kid?” he asks. The moniker feels familiar on his tongue, yet so foreign while addressing someone other than the man beside him.

Weasel Eren looks up then back down at his feet as his eyes bounce from the captain to the shifter, gaze settling on the pointy-eared version of himself last.  He chooses to ignore Levi’s question.  “We only have healthy triangle things,” he announces. “They’re organic.”

The sorcerer plants himself on the floor next to the wood elf’s feet. The piece of furniture looks too clean, too new and comfortable, and he doesn’t trust it.  “What’s organic?” he asks.  He doesn’t want his little wood elf eating anything dangerous or ending up with a stomach ache.  The last thing he desires is to hold his braids while he vomits.

“An expensive marketing scheme,” is the answer he offers with a chuckle.  “Levi eats them. I don’t know why he can’t just buy Doritos like a normal human being,” he finishes with a shrug.

“Because he’s not a normal human being,” the shifter snorts, earning himself a playful glare from the captain and a laugh from the wood elf and Weasel Eren.

Levi is used to this kind of teasing from Eren. It doesn’t bother him, he knows he has his quirks, is ruled by routine and his restraint. Though it amuses him to look sidelong at the shifter and receive a smirk in return.

Their host departs for a moment, the sounds of him rummaging through cabinets filling the apartment as the curious wood elf grabs the television remote.

“I wouldn’t touch that,” the captain advises as if he was warning his own Eren.  “You have no idea what it is.”

“Yes, it could be enchanted,” the sorcerer adds.

The wood elf doesn’t relinquish it. He runs his fingers over the buttons with interest, pausing over the colored ones near the bottom. It’s only when Weasel Eren returns that the wood elf asks about it.  “Is this a weapon of some sort?”

“No, it’s a television remote,” he replies, taking it from the elf before depositing it back on the table along with snacks he’s put into a bowl.  “I’ll show you how to use it later.”  He points to the television, informing the group, “it controls that thing right there. You can watch stuff on it.”

“Like a gazing ball?” the sorcerer asks.

The captain’s interest is sparked by his twin’s question. “What the hell is a gazing ball?”

“Yeah?” the shifter adds.

“You can see many things with it,” he explains.  “The future, inside dark places, to where there are other gazing balls.”

The wood elf sighs.  “It would have been nice if we’d had one of those before you read off that damn transportation spell.”

The sorcerer turns and looks up at the wood elf, indignant.  “I was trying to save our asses!”

“It was your fault our asses needed saving in the first place!”

The other three look on as the elf and sorcerer squabble. It makes both of the Erens’ chests clench, if only a little, watching this Levi and Eren argue.  Meanwhile, the captain merely rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

Finally, he interjects, “is this how this mess started?”  The sorcerer and wood elf currently appear to be the most suitable candidates to explain what happened.  “Did you two somehow sends us all here?”

“It’s possible,” the sorcerer says, keeping his eyes cast down on his lap.  “I may have used a transportation incantation to help us escape from some orcs, and I might not have read it correctly.”

“Might not have?” the wood elf says trying his best not to sound too sarcastic.  “That incantation was in Sindarin, you don’t know Sindarin.”

The sorcerer is immediately defensive, lip curling as he rumbles, “It was elvish! I can pronounce it just fine!”

“Pronouncing and understanding are two different things!” the wood elf spits back with a kick of his shoe against the sorcerer’s ass.  “I don’t even know what it said, and I’m an elf!”

“But it was elvish.”

“It was Sindarin, I don’t know Sindarin! Not all elvish is the same, you racist!”  The wood elf is attempting to keep his composure, but his partner can be so trying at times. He lowers his voice, attempting to keep his annoyance in check while he explains, “I speak Quenya. I don’t speak Sindarin.  Not fluently, anyway. I understand enough to know you fucked up.”

“I’m not a racist!” the sorcerer yells as he stands.

The other three have been quietly watching.  It continues to leave the shifter feeling sad, and he and his modern-day twin share a look before they both turn to the captain.

He sighs, knowing what that expression means.  The entire argument reminds him of having to break up fights when the brats had gotten into it. “I’m sure he isn’t a racist,” Levi says.  “Maybe an idiot, but not a racist.”

“Excuse me?” the sorcerer asks offended.

There is a holler from the end of the hall, all heads turning toward a voice that sounds like the two who were just speaking. 

“Everyone shut the hell up!”

An eeriness descends over both Levis in the living room at hearing their voices from someplace other than their own mouths. They appraise their clone who is now dressed in what looks to be some type of bedclothes.  All five know the scowl, be it from seeing it before or from recognizing it on their own face.

“What is this I heard about a spell?” Levi asks.  “Normally I’d say it sounded like bullshit, but I’ll believe just about anything at the moment.”

Weasel Eren points to the wood elf and sorcerer.  “They cast a spell,” he says punctuating his statement by ripping off his fake beard with a wince.

The four visitors cringe, the captain hissing as he plants his face in his hand.  “For Sina’s sake.”

The neon-haired Levi only stares, mouth falling open a touch before he too raises his hands in a combination of awe and irritation. “Are you fucking kidding me?”


	7. Study

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys start learning about each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was exhausting to write, hence why it took so long. There is a fair amount of information and interaction here. I also had to adjust to writing such a long chapter, because anybody who knows my writing knows my norm is 1500-2000 words. This one is 5700.
> 
> Thanks, IBT, for putting up with me and my scattered brain. 
> 
> Thank you to those of you who have been waiting for more. I hope I can make you laugh.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all :) The next chapter will arrive in the new year. 
> 
> \- TSR

“Why?  Why would you do that?” Levi asks, fingers raking through neon hair as he turns his head towards the ceiling.  He’s unsurprised but no less annoyed.  

The brunette is wincing and rubbing his face, redness already blooming along his jawline.

“It was itchy!”

“Tch, idiot,” he clicks his tongue and speaks in tandem with the captain, eyes narrowing at the latter.

“That really needs to stop,” the shifter grumbles.  He finds the simultaneous expressions of agreement disconcerting.

“You,” the pajama-clad raven points to his Eren, “need to go shower.  You smell like a cocktail gone wrong.”

“But I wanna know how they all got here!” Eren whines, gripping the pathetic remnants of his beard in his hand.

“Are you fucking five!?”

Eren glowers at him.  He’s not going to take a single step towards the bathroom until he has some answers.

“Ugh, fine!” Levi caves, crossing his arms over his chest.  “First things first.  Names.”

“Pretty sure we already established those,” the sorcerer quips..

“Doesn’t mean I believe a damn one of you.”

“Alright then,” the shifter sighs, “what do you suggest?”

“How about birthdays?” beardless Eren speaks up, hopping onto the countertop.  He sees Levi already opening his mouth to protest, but the raven decides he has too much to deal with already and he lets it slide.

The elf frowns, noting, “We don’t even know if we all share the same sort of calendar.”

“Guess we’ll have to fuckin’ hope then, won’t we?” his counterpart says.  “Somehow we all speak the same language.  Should be close enough.”

With a roll of his eyes, the wood elf gives in.  The Erens decide to go first.

“On three,” the Eren on the counter declares.  “One, two…”

As soon as three leaves his lips, there are two answers of March 30th and one, “first snowmelt of spring.”

“First snowmelt of spring, huh?  Sounds like March to me,” pajama-bottomed Levi shrugs. “Guess it’s our turn.”

There is another count of three, and it is noted two Levis were born on December 25th. with the last having entered the world “mid-winter before the new year.”

“Shitbuckets,” Levi exhales, rubbing at his pierced ear.  It’s a nervous habit he’s never been able to curb, and only the soft eyes of his Eren meeting his own enables him to drop his hand away. “ Since it seems we share birthdays, how old is everybody?”

Silence pervades the room, skeptical looks shared as no one wants to be the first to speak.  They all want to play things close to the vest and divulge as little as possible.   Clearly there are trust issues, though no reasonable person could fault any of them for that.

“I’m thirty-nine,” the captain finally drawls.

“Twenty-two,” his Eren answers shortly thereafter.

“Well, I’m twenty-six,” the beardless Eren says, swinging his feet to and fro from his position on the countertop.

“Thirty-six,” the pierced male sighs, tugging at the barbell in his ear.  “Thirty-seven soon, obviously.  December’s not far off,” he finishes with a grumble, t arying to ignore elder whose lips have quirked upwards in understanding.

“Twenty-four,” the sorcerer pipes up with a frown.

“Oi, fairy face…” Levi calls over to the elf, who has an undeniable scowl marring his features.

“I’m an _elf_!” Eren retorts, angrily tossing his long locks out of his face.

“What’re you lookin’ so sour for?”

“I’m the oldest out of all of us!”

“So?” the shifter queries.  “I’m the youngest Eren, and it makes no difference to me.”

“That’s not the same!” the wood elf snorts, ears fluttering in displeasure.

“Well, you can’t be much more than, what? Twenty-eight?  And that really seems to be pushing it.”

The elf’s expression rapidly morphs from downtrodden to wholly uncomfortable, clutching his robes while he mutters, “I’m eighty-seven.”

“Beg pardon?” the captain interjects, eyes widening.  It’s slight, but the shifter notices.

“I said,” elfen Eren rumbles, gritting his teeth, “I’m eighty.  Seven.”

“He’s putting us on, right?” the elder raises an eyebrow at the sorcerer.

The young nomad shakes his head and says, “He’s no more lying about that than he is about being an elf.”

“But he looks twelve!” Levi scoffs, neon bangs falling in his eyes.

“So do you!” the younger clone shoots back.

“You realize that means that you also look twelve,” the captain blithely supplies from the couch.

The elf can’t help but shrink in on himself.  Eren’s used to being around humans, and he’s used to humans who don’t have complete comprehension of what he is, but that isn’t what bothers him.  His unease stems from the fact that not only is he the eldest Eren in the room, but he’s also the eldest of all present.  He has the least life experience of anybody.  

Eren’s been separated from his clan a mere seven years with none of that time having been spent alone.  It had only taken him a couple of days to find himself in trouble with some goblins, and the end result of that altercation had been Levi saving his ass.  The wood elf knows nothing of the world compared to the others.  He feels small and insignificant, managing to only feel grateful for Levi who is defending him from goblins yet again, proverbial though they may be.

“Shut up!” the sorcerer spits.  “Eren looks young because he _is_ young.  Elves can live hundreds of years.”

“Hundreds of...he can live for centuries!?” beardless Eren squawks, awestruck

“Of course I can,” the elf returns, chin resting on his knees.  “That’s common knowledge.”

“Not to us.”

“So, how old is he in relation to us?” the shifter wonders aloud.

“About sixteen or so.”

“I need some fucking tea,” Levi hisses under his breath, stomping into the kitchen.  “You!” He points at the still costumed Eren as he rounds the countertop.  “Go wash up.  You’re a fucking mess.”

“But…”

“You’re not going to miss a goddamn thing.  I need time to process all of…this,” he continues, sweeping his arm across the room.  He doesn’t even know where to begin.  “We are all going to sit here and drink a cup of tea while I try to decide whether or not I need to fucking commit myself.”

“Fine,” Eren pouts as he hops off the counter.  “Just don’t learn anything else without me,” he finishes with a huff, making his way down the hallway and into the bathroom.

“Ok then,” Levi claps his hands together before fetching his kettle.  “Your options are jasmine tea and jasmine tea.  I’m assuming that you’re all familiar with that drink at least?”

Quiet hums of affirmation are enough to loosen the knot of dread which has made itself at home in Levi’s chest as he gets to work setting out mugs, milk, and sugar.

“Looks like we’re in for a long night,” he sighs.  “Best settle in.”

* * *

The lot of other worlders are dually perplexed and suspicious of Levi’s electric kettle.  In different circumstances, he would choose to institute his old-fashioned whistler, but he doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.  He needs tea, and he needs it _now._  The electric contraption provides him with boiling water in under a minute.

“Have demons infiltrated that vessel?” the sorcerer asks, leaning towards the elf while scrutinizing the kettle.  It’s already beginning to boil.

“If electricity counts as a demonic entity, then yes,” Levi responds, relief evident on his face when no inquiry is made about what electricity is.  

Running his fingers through still damp yellow-black he fetches up the kettle from its stand, pouring water into four mugs and one teacup.  The latter piece of porcelain is fine china, a random keepsake he acquired when he was younger.  Truthfully, Levi can’t remember how it had come to be in his possession, but there is something about the delicate silver filigree which surrounds dainty cornflower blue hydrangea petals that have always attracted him.  It reminds him of the first kiss of winter, when the leaves of ivy are faintly frosted and he can see the wisps of his breath in the air when he takes a walk outside.  It is a comfort to him.  

Though he knows his attachment to the teacup is strange, he cannot deny its importance to him, for whatever reason it exists.  He also can’t ignore the niggling feeling there is someone else in the room who would appreciate such an item as much as he does.  Even as he drops in tea bags and gently nudges sugar and milk towards the edge of the counter, it stays at the forefront of his mind he won’t be enjoying his tea from his favorite porcelain.

Before calling the group forward to claim their mugs, Levi fetches the honey from the cabinet.  A small amount is squeezed onto a teaspoon and summarily stirred into the beverage.  Levi places the teacup on its matching saucer and walks over to the couch where the captain has taken up residence.  The younger man had noticed the elder sagging against the wall a few minutes prior, whether from exhaustion or an unnamed pain.  He isn’t surprised to see the captain has given in to the call of plush cushions.

“Here,” Levi says, tugging at the silver stud in his earlobe.  He feels confused (and a bit nervous) giving his doppelganger a cup of tea, mainly since he’s presenting it in his favorite vessel. Nonetheless, he cannot shake the compelling urge to share his china with the stranger who somehow _isn’t_ a stranger.

“Oh, thank you,” the captain intones as he takes hold of the saucer.  Pale fingers alight on the rim of the teacup, leaving but a small window betwixt the elder’s thumb and forefinger through which he sips.

Levi holds it the same way.

“Is something the matter?” the elder asks.  The younger man is staring at him, though he can’t say he’s particularly off-put by it.  He recognizes how unnerving it is to stare at a copy of himself.  He’d be concerned if the other man didn’t feel wary.

“It’s just…the way you hold your teacup.”

“Mmm, yes.  I’ve been told it’s an odd affectation.”

“I hold mine in the same manner.”

The captain smiles into the teacup, imbibing the slightly sweetened amber liquid before he speaks again.

“Do you also drink it with a half teaspoon of honey?”

Steely eyes dart to the side, shoulders hunching, lips pressed together.  He doesn’t want to answer.  He tries to ignore the elder’s knowing smirk.  It’s more than similar.  It’s his.

“Eren?” the captain gently nudges the shifter who has dutifully taken his place beside him once more, mug in hand.

“Ne?”

The elder taps his own boot, and the shifter takes the hint, reaching into the leather of his footwear and turning over the blade which resided there.  The captain mirrors the action, removing his own switchblade to offer both weapons to the Levi before him.

Levi stares at the blades for a moment waiting for the rage to bubble up in him.  It never comes.  The only thing he can say is, “You could have killed us.”

“Yes,” is the immediate reply, calm and dispassionate.  “And you could have killed us.”

Though the thought never crossed the younger Levi’s mind, he understands where the captain is coming from.  He understands it more thoroughly when his eyes find those of the starry-eyed brunette who stands so proudly next to his Levi.  Turning over their hidden blades is a gesture of trust and goodwill.  Levi acknowledges that by returning their knives.

“Why?” he asks, fingers curling in the pockets of his pajamas.

“I appreciate a good cup of tea,” the captain answers cryptically, raising the teacup and giving an almost imperceptible nod before allowing floral warmth to trickle down his throat.

* * *

Eren emerges from the bathroom wearing a pair of thin running pants and a loose grey t-shirt.  He smells slightly less like a daiquiri and a little more like a fruit salad.

“You used my bath gel,” Levi accuses when Eren takes a seat next to him at the counter.

“I couldn’t use mine!  Cedar and strawberry-lime don’t exactly complement each other!”

Levi only hums, continuing to nurse his mug of tea.

“Did I miss anything?”

“No,” a low voice reaches his ears.  The sorcerer is sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room, scowling for all he’s worth.  “They wouldn’t let me say anything.”

“Who?”

“Any of them!”

“You’ve said more than enough already!” the wood elf snarks from the floor.

Eren tries to hide a smile behind his hand.  He can’t help but take some time to observe the people occupying the room.  Each one of them is recognizable, their resemblances uncanny.  And yet they all seem so different.  He scrutinizes the other versions of himself first, either unwilling or unable to comprehend the idea of multiple Levis sharing space.

The wood elf wears flowing robes made of cotton and wool in bold colors of green, gold, and brown with embroidery of gold thread running along the edges of his garments.  The earth tones enhance the tan hue of his skin, slightly darker than Eren’s own, presumably from being outdoors all the time.  Golden bracelets adorn his wrists, and he’s sure he caught a glimpse of matching anklets earlier in the night.  He is barefoot now, his callous thickened feet visible, but Eren recalls having seen him wearing shoes of some sort.  Long, flowing, braided hair cascades down the elf’s back, reaching his upper thighs.  His ears, ever twitching and searching for a sound, gently curl at the edges, similar to a seashell.  He is a striking creature.  

The youngest brunette stands beside the elder raven. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail which halts at his lower nape, and he is ever vigilant, giving the outward appearance of being relaxed while doing his best to stay close at hand for his Levi at all times.  His clothing is simple, being nothing more than white jeans, a pale green t-shirt with a leather jacket overlaying it, and knee-high leather boots.  His skin is flawless, not a mark to be found on caramel flesh, but his eyes are tired.  He somehow looks old and weathered, despite his age and youthful appearance.

Eren’s own hair isn’t quite as long as his younger counterpart, stopping at his jawline, shaggy and unkempt.  It’s full of texture in comparison to the smoothly bound strands of his copy.  Levi often hassles him for the “rat’s nest” that sits atop his head, but he knows he secretly enjoys combing through cinnamon strands when they lay together in bed.  It’s soothing to his lover.

“I’m going to make some food,” he suddenly announces.  “I didn’t get to eat much at Mikasa’s party, and I’m starving.  Anybody else interested in some noms?”

“What’s a ‘nom’?” the eldest Levi asks, brows drawn together.

“It’s Eren’s meme-tastic way of saying ‘food’.”

“What’s a—“

Levi covers his face with his hands, just barely refraining from screaming into them.

Eren only smiles, putting on a pot of water to make macaroni and cheese and preheating the oven to bake some pizza rolls.  He turns back to the waiting ensemble to take in the trio of Levis, quelling the nauseated twist he feels in his gut.  The presence of multiple Levis makes Eren jittery.  The feeling is further compounded by the realization he is somewhat attracted to the two he is not familiar with.  He wonders if his boyfriend has the same inclination towards the other Erens.  He supposes his attraction makes sense since they are all Levi.  Or at least versions of Levi.  All the same, the existence of “extras” makes his toes tingle and his fingers twitch in a way that accentuates his unease.

The sorcerer in his silver-studded leather wears an expression which is less keen than Eren is used to.  He looks bored, as is customary, but it is not a feigned disinterest.  Pale fingers are tugging at the silver studs in his ears which Eren finds amusing.  His own Levi does the same thing.  This Levi, however, lacks focus, silver eyes darting about, taking in bits and pieces of his surroundings without actually analyzing anything.  Eren doubts he could recall what was in the room if he were asked.  The only thing he can be sure of is that those eyes repeatedly fall on the wood elf, especially when somebody else’s attention finds him.  The majority of his focus is on the spritely brunette, as though his only goal is to protect him.  It warms Eren’s heart to see it.

The elder has crow’s feet crinkling around his eyes and a bright grey streak in his hair that arches from his temple over his left ear, trailing into his nape.  He wears the same general attire as his Eren.  White jeans, knee-high leather boots, a blue blouse in place of a t-shirt, and some sort of scarf.  Eren has seen Christopher Walken wear one before.  He’s reasonably sure it’s called a cravat.  

The body before him is aged, his skin fair, though some scars are visible.  How many more reside beneath his clothing?  Eren knows the lean form he sees resting on his couch is not weak.  Beneath the well cared for leather of the elder’s jacket lies a great deal of strength.  His presence alone is evidence of his power.  He is calm and quiet, just like the Levi that Eren knows so well.  But there is an excitement that zips through Eren’s veins when he watches him.

Dangerous thoughts.

Bright eyes fall on his other half, and Eren can’t help but smile as he takes in Levi’s profile.  Like the other two, his skin is pale, his jaw angular and well-chiseled, peculiarly refined, though he is no less masculine for it.  His nose is sharp with pronounced cheekbones.  He lacks the deep plum bruising that paints the skin beneath the eyes of the elder and possesses the focus the sorcerer does not.  His hair is a deep blue-black save for the tips, which are dyed a startling neon yellow, and his left ear is pierced from lobe to helix.  Various studs and rings fill the spaces of his piercings, lending to his punkish appearance.  It is only furthered by the tattoos which cover his arms and mark his back, though the latter aren’t presently visible.

A sudden laugh bursts from Eren’s mouth, surprising everyone, including Eren himself.

“Brat?” his own Levi queries.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Eh?”

“The three of you!  You all have the same goddamn undercut!”

The Levis all look at each other as Eren continues to laugh, a snort being heard from somewhere near the couch while a gasp cuts through the air near the recliner.  It’s true.  While the three Erens have decidedly different hairstyles, the Levis all match, save for the dye-job on one and the streak of grey on the other.

“Sweet Maria!  Even when you’re all different you’re the same!” the shifter exclaims, unable to hold back his laughter.

The elf is fairing no better than the other two, his mouth curling into a mirthful grin.  He doesn’t speak, he just relishes the sight of the sorcerer’s face burning hot and red.

“It could be said that even when you’re the same, you’re all different,” says the captain.  His expression is serious, but there is a spark of humor in his eyes.  “You all share the same face, but your features are vastly different otherwise.”

“My mother would flip her shit if she knew there was more than one of me,” shaggy-haired Eren speaks from the kitchen.  He’s stirring pasta into the water and the pizza rolls have finally made it into the oven.  “She tells me all the time that she barely survived my childhood.”

“Your mother is alive?” the shifter asks.  The atmosphere of the room notably shifts when the question is asked, something heavy settling over all of them.

“Of course she’s alive,” Eren responds, brows downturned.  “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Because mine’s not,” the shifter replies.  His voice makes it sound like the time that’s passed has been too long and not long enough.  “Is your father alive, too?”

“Yes,” Eren whispers, fingers clenching around the spoon he’s holding as he tries to quell the shaking of his body.  He can feel all of their eyes on him, watching.

“What are their names?”

His Levi is already stepping in, a hand pressing against his shoulder blade, firm and reassuring.  His breath is warm against Eren’s back when he speaks.

“You don’t have to tell him, Eren.”

But Eren has nothing to hide, and so he answers the inquiry with, “Carla and Grisha.  I see them almost every weekend.”  He watches the shifter swallow, the action heavy and forced.  Those eyes that are so like his—that _are_ his—look haunted.  “How did she…”

It is the captain who answers, “Where we come from, mindless giants run rampant.  They eat humans.  They eat humans because they were once human themselves.  They’re only trying to return to that state, though they don’t understand that.”

Eren’s hand tangles in his hair.  He blinks back tears and pretends the pain is caused by him pulling too hard.

“Was your mother—”

“My mother was a hooker.  She died of sickness when I was young.”

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“It was decades ago,” the elder shrugs.  “Death is a part of life.  Some meet their end sooner than others.  It is an unfortunate reality.”

“Was her name Kuchel?” the pierced Levi asks.

“It was.  Your mother had the same name?”

“Has.  She’s very much alive.”

“Oh?  Is she a whore, too?”

“No!  She’s a seamstress!  She’s married to a CPA.  His name is Greg.”

“You know who your father is?”

“You don’t?”

The captain seems unapologetically unimpressed when he reiterates, “My mother was a prostitute.”

“Another hooker mom over here,” the sorcerer waves from the corner.  “Well, at least she was when I was born.”

“Was?”

“She technically still is, I suppose.  She’s a madam now.”

“Why do you sound proud?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? She runs her own business, can take care of all of her affairs.  Nobody crosses Kuchel Ackerman if they want to keep their balls in their rightful place,” he says with a grin.

“My parents are alive, but we don’t talk,” the wood elf says.

“Why not?”

“We’re wood elves.  We just...don’t?  It’s natural for us.”

The shifter finally speaks again. “Back at the house where we all met, we all heard Mikasa.  What is she to you?”

“She’s my sister,” Eren responds, eyes narrowed.  “What is it to you?”

“Where we’re from, she’s my sister.  Her parents were murdered when she was a child.”

Eren presses a hand to his stomach, unable to stop his grimace.  He feels nauseous, wobbling where he stands until Levi leans against him to keep him from falling.

“My parents adopted her when she was just a baby.  They couldn’t have any more children naturally.”

“Mikasa tried sleeping with me once,” chimes the wood elf.  The smirk on his face is nothing short of prurient.

“Our sister tried to sleep with you?!” Eren gags, spoon clattering to the floor.

“Ew!  No!” the elf screeches, hands alternating between flailing about and clutching his robes.  “She’s not my sister!  She’s his!” he insists, pointing at the sorcerer.

The sorcerer shrugs. “We’re twins.”

“There’s no way.  There’s no fucking way,” Levi groans, pulling on his earlobe.  His entire ear is red from his incessant fussing over the course of the evening.

“Well, you better tell that to my mother then, because we were born in the same damn brothel.  I’m older than she is by twelve minutes.”

“My sister hates Levi,” Eren says with an amused snort, his hand raising without thought to pull Levi’s fingers away from his ear.  He’s going to rip out a piercing if he keeps it up.

“My sister doesn’t like him either!” the shifter laughs.  He looks slightly less somber.

“I don’t care if she likes me as long as she respects me,” the captain murmurs, sipping his tea.

“That’s...tenuous on the best of days,” the shifter huffs, scratching at his neck.  “I think she behaves because of Armin…”

“Armin?” Eren perks up, setting freshly removed pizza rolls on the countertop.  “Armin’s alive?”

“Yes?  He’s perfectly fine.”

“I don’t know how he’s managed to survive as long as he has, but he is a cunning little shit.”

“Levi!”

Eren deflates a bit, pausing at the sink where he’s poured pasta into a strainer to drain.

“The Armin I know...I knew...died when we were kids,” he says.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, ours is alive and well.  He’s a faun.  Runs a local magic shop.”

“That’s...strange, but I’m glad you still have your Armins.”

The captain speaks from his position on the couch. “What about Erwin?”  His eyes give away nothing to the strangers, but the shifter sees the glint of hope which resides in his irises.

“Erwin’s my boss,” Levi huffs, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

“Figures,” the captain smirks.  “He was mine, too.  Not that I was ever good at taking orders from him.”

“Was?”

“Mmm, he passed a few years ago.  Died in battle.”

The sorcerer is the next to speak, tone bland and disinterested when he says, “Erwin’s my father.”

The other two Levis choke on their tea and the Erens go wide-eyed and silent, save for the wood elf who promptly smacks the sorcerer on the thigh.

“Levi!”

“Oh come on!  I was just having a little fun!”

The elf scoffs and frowns, scolding his companion for his misbehavior.

“Erwin is a centaur and a blacksmith.  He forges all our weapons for us.”

“I want to laugh because you’re always calling him a horse’s ass, but it’s just too fucked up,” Eren says to Levi while stirring butter and cheese into hot pasta.

“I’m going to regret asking,” the dyed raven begins, “but what about Hanji?”

“They’re a dragonborn apothecary.”

“She’s a creepy scientist.”

“Huh...ours is a dude, and he runs a gay bar downtown.”

“Your Hanji...is a man?” the captain questions, forehead crinkling in consideration.  That thought is somehow more disturbing to him than Hanji being a dragonborn.  Whatever that is.

“Yes, and he runs a gay bar,” Levi repeats.  “It’s called Puddles.”

“Do we want to know why it’s called that?”

“Absolutely not,” Levi discourages.

“One hundred percent no,” Eren agrees with a rough shake of his head.  “Dinner’s ready.”

As Eren scoops mac and cheese into bowls and places pizza rolls on plates, Levi brings a sandwich to the captain.

“What is this?  I don’t need any special treatment,” the elder says in an attempt to decline.

“It’s called a panini, and I promise you this isn’t special treatment.  I mean, if you’d like to try that neon orange goop, by all means, go right ahead, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

The captain grew up in poverty and he has eaten his fair share of disgusting things in his time.  He’s ready to say so until he catches sight of what’s in the shifter’s bowl and is immediately inclined to change his mind.  He opts to take what he’s been offered not because he’s superior to Eren and thus too good to eat what he’s eating, but because it’s the sensible thing to do.  He wants to tell the shifter to be cautious, but even in his maturity Eren is as impulsive and impetuous as ever.  His mouth is already stuffed.

“I don’t know what flavor this is,” the shifter says around a mouthful, “but this is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted!”

“I’m afraid to ask what you eat where you come from if you consider radioactive swill to be delicious,” Levi chuckles.

“It’s not that bad!  You’re just a snob!” Eren retorts, already working on washing dishes.

“I like pizza rolls just fine,” the raven says, stealing one from Eren’s plate.

“Hey!”

The captain scans the room as everybody eats.  He has never stopped observing because it is not in his nature to let his guard down.  The wood elf and sorcerer are still off in their own corner, eyes finding each other more often than not.  The elf clearly dislikes the pasta, but is enjoying the “pizza rolls.”  He catches the two men in the kitchen smiling at the pair in the corner when they trade food with each other.   

The youngest Levi and eldest Eren have been the quietest of the group, offering the least amount of information, which the captain finds strange.  It’s only because the sorcerer overall seems to be unusually gregarious in comparison to his Eren.  It is the other way around for the other pairs.  They appear so different from the rest of them.

“Brat,” the captain calls out quietly.  He means to address the shifter, but what he receives is a chorus of, “What?”

Levi understands then how his Eren feels and he doesn’t like it one damn bit. The shifter is cringing again, having set down his bowl on the coffee table.  He tries to hide his unease by tucking his hands beneath his armpits, but he’s not fooling anybody.

The shifter growls quietly, head turned away as he says, “We really need to do something about that.”

“What do you propose?” the sorcerer inquires.  He’s given up his seat at long last, stretching out sore muscles.

“Nicknames,” Eren offers as a solution.  He’s back up on the counter, and even though Levi is scowling at him he’s able to ignore it.  “They’re commonplace here.  Some people have multiple names, dependent on who they’re with at the time.”

“Oh!  Like when you call Hanji ‘Lizard brain’!” the elf chortles.

“That’s not…”

“Or when you call Hanji ‘Shitty Glasses’!” the shifter grins.

“Closer, but still not exactly…”

“Like calling Eren ‘Brat,’” Levi clarifies.

“Yes!  Like that!  Wait…”

“It would probably best if we go with things that involve our appearances, would it not?  Things that are easily remembered,” the captain intones.  His voice has grown quieter and he’s resting his head in his hand.  He won’t admit it, he can’t afford to in a situation where so much is still unknown and potentially dangerous, but he’s tired.  He wants to sleep.

“I agree,” Levi says from his position in the kitchen.  “Everybody ok with that?  Great.  I think that maybe…”

“HIGHLIGHTER!” Eren screeches next to him.

“Excuse me?”

The brunette doesn’t answer him.  He hops off the countertop, scurries down the hallway, and brings back a neon yellow marker, happily declaring, “Highlighter!” while pointing at Levi’s hair.

“You best be joking.”

“It’s too perfect!  I’ve always thought your hair looked like one.” Eren giggles, and draws a yellow streak on a piece of paper for the others to view.  “Check it out!”

The captain looks back and forth between the piece of paper and Levi’s hair multiple times before covering his face in embarrassment while the sorcerer guffaws at the hilarity of it all.

“I.  Hate.  You.”

“That’s a lie!  Who’s next?”

“You are!” Levi rumbles.  “Aerial!  His name is Aerial!”

“You’re making me a mermaid?”

The elf flicks his ears, interested in their knowledge.  “You know what mermaids are?”

“What’s a mermaid?” the shifter asks.

“You’re not a fucking mermaid, you dolt!  Because of the silks!  You know? Your job!”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Eren smiles in understanding, bright and beaming.  “That makes sense.  I do like mermaids though…”

“Jesus Christ…” Levi sighs.  He loves Eren, undeniably, unequivocally, and unendingly, but sometimes the brat is beyond exhausting.  “What about the rest of you?”

The captain and the shifter share a look and it’s clear they’re having a silent conversation.  It takes mere seconds for the elder to point to the shifter and declare, “Titan.”

It takes the shifter a bit longer to think of something.  He’s not comfortable with the others calling him Captain, nor does he like the idea of them calling him Heichou.  And then it comes to him in a flash of blinding brilliance, a devious smile overtaking his countenance.  “Rivai,” he says, pointing at the elder.

The captain whips his head around, voice booming, “You wretched little shit!”

The shifter’s grin does not cease.

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep, I swear to fuck,” the elder continues to grumble.  He’s not serious.  Such threats towards Eren never are.  But it makes him feel better.  “Fucking ‘Rivai.’  Cheeky bastard.”

“Oi!  You two are the last ones.  How about it?”

The sorcerer wastes no time at all, bestowing the elf with the moniker of “Woody” for the time being.

“Why are you such a nasty little dwarfling?” the elf huffs.  He knows damn good and well he’s just been given a nickname which doubles as an epithet for an erection.  “You can call him Hex.”

“Ohhh, you’re just the _worst_ sort of person!”

“You started it, I finished it.” The elf turns up his nose with a haughty sniff.  “It’s your fault we’re all here to begin with!”

“Wait a second, that’s not…!”

“Ok!  I think it’s time for bed!” Eren jumps in before things can get heated.  “It’s almost one in the morning and I’m sure we’re all exhausted!”

“We only have the one guestroom so two of you can bunk there, but the other two will have to crash out here.”

“We’ll sleep out here,” the captain volunteers.  His eyes gravitate towards the chair in the corner and the shifter somehow feels loneliness creeping up on him.

“Alright then, Woody, Hex, this way.”

“I swear to shit I’m gonna fucking “hex” you, you damn brat.”

“I’m going to be referred to as a dick the whole time we’re here, and we don’t know how long that’s going to be!  You don’t get to complain!”

The captain can’t help but chuckle, settling into the leather chair the sorcerer had previously occupied.  The shifter sits on the couch nearby, watching him with quiet intent and he smiles.  He’s not sure why, but he can’t help himself.

“What are you thinking?” Eren asks him.

“They’re like us.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

 


End file.
